


Recollections of a forgotten past

by Hisaumaiya



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types, fate - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Child Soldiers, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisaumaiya/pseuds/Hisaumaiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maiya's past before she met Kiritsugu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

 

{ Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

― W.B. Yeats, The Collected Poems }

                There was a clap of thunder.

Or at least, I thought so.

I hugged my mother as tight as I can, inhaling her familiar motherly scent.

The thunder never stopped. Normally father and mother would bring me to the window and watch the crack of the sky.

It was beautiful. They told me it was called ‘lightning’.

However, today mother closed all the windows and curtains, and took me and my little brother and sister to the basement. There were no windows in the basement, so I could not watch the lightning, but today the thunder was louder than usual, and it did not stop.

“Mommy, is the sky falling?” My little sister was in tears, the thunder scared her.

“No, everything will be fine darling.” Mother hugged the three of us even harder, while the thunder seemed to be getting louder and louder.

Bang!

There was a huge crash, and the ground shook. All of us were alright, it must have been the neighbors, but it frightened us out of our skin.

Suddenly, I realized something was wrong.

“Mommy, daddy is not back yet.”

“He has gone to help the country, dear.” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Would you help me take care of your brother and sister until he comes back?”

“Mommy, don’t cry.” I wiped off her tears, and promised,:” I will take care of them, don’t worry, mommy.”

She smiled, and patted my head.

“But…when is daddy coming back?”

The thunder outside roared so loudly we all had to cover our ears. The great cupboard crashed near us, and my sister started crying again.

Amongst all the crashing and the cries, my mother’s reply was almost too soft to hear.

“He’ll be home soon, dear. Soon.”

I was Eight. And I never saw my father again.


	2. Part One

Part One – Training Camp

{ Barbed wire, Barbed wire – this is what one sees first…

At the first glance, this barbed, rapacious barrier looks senseless and surreal; who will try to cross it, if snowy desert spreads as far as eye can reach, no tracks, no people, snow lies two metres thick, one cannot make a step – and yet this wire wants to tell you something, give you a message. It says: take note, you are crossing the border into another world. From here, you won’t escape. This is a world of deadly seriousness, command and obedience. Learn how to listen, learn humility, learn how to occupy as little room as possible. Best of all do what is for you to do. Best of all keep quiet. Best of all do not ask questions.

——Imprerium, (Warsaw 1993) }

 

_Just pull the trigger._

As the bullet of the rifle pierced through the heart, the boy didn’t even have time to scream before his body slumped lifelessly onto the ground.

Seven withdrew her rifle, her gaze hollow as she stared at the corpse that lay dead in front of her.

Yet another life she robbed out of cold blood…

It has been two years since she was kidnapped from her family. _They_ came in their military uniforms, snatching every single child by the age of seven by force.

Many did not survive. Some died of diseases and sicknesses, some of hunger. There were always not enough food in the training camp; most of the food went to the adult barracks. There were also not enough blankets and clothes, or medicine for everyone.

Not like anyone cared.

The children captives had to get up early each day for their training, and they were trained to kill. Nobody was an exception, even children as young as seven year olds were required to wield a gun.

They were commanded to forget about their past lives. As soldiers, all they needed to do is to defend and fight for their country. Talking about their past lives were forbidden, whoever was caught was either beaten mercilessly with a whip or shot to death. They were forced to watch all the deaths of the children who broke the rules – it was a way of disciplining them.

Seven walked away, as some of the younger child soldiers dragged the body away. She headed to the canteen, where they could take their daily supply of food and water. As she took a bite out of the half stale bread, she suddenly felt a wave of nausea, her appetite gone.

Despite her emotionless demeanor, her heart was bleeding inside.

_I knew him. He was from my village._

_I killed him. I killed him. I killed him._

She shook her head, trying to clear those thoughts out of her mind.

_I can’t even remember his name. The only thing I remember about him was Twelve, because coincidentally the first four digits of our numbers were the same._

In order to help them forget their past, each of them were given a number, and that number functions as their new name.

Seven stared at the number on her uniform. 511207.

_His number was 511212._

She forced herself to finish her bread, it wasn’t everyday they had a whole piece of bread to themselves.

She had been killing for two years now. To toughen them up, the commander made them kill their own comrades. Whenever a soldier broke the rules or tried to run away, some of them would be selected randomly to perform the kill; and those who refused were threatened and whipped. Any show of weakness would lead to punishment, and the only way to survive in this military was to stay out of trouble. Seven learned that the hard way. Her scarred body could still feel the pain of the whip, and the pressure of the crowbar they used to punish her for refusing to kill.

_He broke the rules. He was naïve, just like all the others who died._ Seven thought bitterly. _I had no other choice._

It was difficult, at first. The first time she killed, her hands were shaking and she missed the heart, causing the child more pain as she was forced to shoot a few more times before he was dead. That memory haunted her for years, the boy will always be screaming at her whenever she fell asleep. _Why? I only wanted to go home. Why did you kill me?_ Each time she woke up traumatized and frightened, and she would find tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought of how the commander tied the arms of the boy and made her smear his blood on her arms after he died. He said she had to do this so she would not fear death and would not try to escape. That boy never left her mind, no matter how hard she tried to forget about him. The nightmares only got worse, as the slaughtering never stopped; they even had to kill each other for food when food was scarce. Only the strong ones survived.

Running away wasn’t an option. All of them knew that. Yet people like Twelve never gave up, they just kept trying. _Idiot._ Seven fought back her tears; she couldn’t break, not now. That was how she survived for two whole years, she was not about to give in yet.

In a place like this, trust and friendship was not an option, and Seven had long learned how to suppress her inner feelings and emotions. She became a killer, one of the elites in camp. Sometimes she was selected to participate in the attack against the enemies. She survived, and ended up in hospitals and wards, but she was always brought back again the minute she recovered. Being in a battlefield was nothing like she imagined – lives are lost within seconds, and the generals didn’t give a thought about them. They only retreated after most of the children fell, and then trained them even harder after that to ensure victory; but the cycle would repeat itself, over and over again. Many children died, but they just kept kidnapping more to join the army.

It wasn’t long before the whistle was blown. Seven gobbled up the remains of her bread and slung her rifle over her shoulders, her jet black hair covering her expression. When she looked back up, her brown eyes held no emotion, she was back to the person she forced herself to be, a killer.

Seven was lucky; she survived in the battlefield, yet -

 The camp was a battlefield itself.

 


	3. Part Two

Part 2 – Despair

            { If you haven't cried, your eyes can't be beautiful.

——Sophia Loren. }

It was not a quiet night.

But yes, it was dark.

Seven was never afraid of the dark, but now, she was.

When she was little, the dark meant time for bed, it meant time for resting and marked the end of the day.

The day was far from over.

And the dark meant something totally different for her now.

It wasn’t long before the flap was opened, and the men came in like it was their territory.

There was no one in charge of the dormitories, and on a nightly basis they would come.

The place instantly filled with screams, shouts for help, even cries. All of it rung in her ears, but she hadn’t even the time to react when somebody grabbed her from behind.

It was so dark, they couldn’t even see who was it on top of them.

Every single night, she felt like they’ve killed her soul and left her body alive. The shame was unbearable and it never went away. She didn’t feel like a human, she felt like just a thing, a useless piece of garbage. She would spend hours in the shower if they’d let her, because the feeling of being dirty didn’t seem to wash off no matter how many times she scrubbed herself raw.

Seven fought the man like crazy, she tried kicking, punching, yelling, even biting, but the more she struggled the more she realized she could not get out of it. She pleaded and begged, but it was like he couldn’t hear her. She tried to scream but he put his forearm on her throat and his knee on her stomach. Tears came streaming down her cheeks like a hosepipe, it wasn’t only the pain she felt on the outside, but the terror and humiliation that entangled her soul. He ripped off her clothes, treating her as a puppet that couldn’t feel pain. She felt every stroke of it and it seemed to go on forever…

Shame. Helpless. Violated. Tortured. How many times has she endured this? How much longer did she have to suffer?

She was in shock, and faded in and out of consciousness, seeing flashes of light here and there. There was blood flowing out from her vagina, she felt ripped apart from within. Her virginity, her pride, her dignity… All was stolen from her in one single night. There was a thunderbolt of pain in her head and she felt that someone had violently and brutally taken something that belonged to her and only her without her permission. They were told that they had to do it to ‘alleviate the sadness of the combatants’, but who would alleviate their sadness after making out with someone they hardly knew?

Things went on as usual every day. All the female soldiers were treated no differently, and were expected to continue with the daily routine. That was how it worked here. Seven got ready hastily for the daily practice after the morning bath, along with the other soldiers. Nobody was crying- they were not allowed to do so.

Punctuality was one of the strict rules in camp, and Seven was already in line before some of the others arrived. She was only eleven, but she had to face the harsh reality put out in front of her, regardless of whether she liked it or not.

Practice went on as usual, until she felt a wave of dizziness in her head. She shook it off and kept to the rhythm, but it wasn’t long before she felt it again. She tried to ignore it like how she normally did, but today was an exception when she found herself throwing up on the ground, emptying all the contents of her breakfast she just ate. She didn’t even have a minute of rest before the commander barked at her to get back. She wiped her mouth and jogged back, this time it only took her two or three steps before she bent down and vomited again.

_Was it something I ate?_

The commander was so angry he punished her by not giving her anything else to eat for the rest of the day. She felt so sick she didn’t do well at anything, and only had time to rest at the end of the day. She felt hungry and weak, but nobody offered her a bite as they had barely enough food for themselves. Nobody had the same symptoms as her and she was confused.

_What is happening to me?_

The next day, the same thing happened again. And the days after that. She had so little to eat she was desperate, and during the evening she decided to search the bin for anything, as long as it could ease her hunger. They say desperation can make people do things that they normally won’t, at this rate, she didn’t care if she got punished, she was so hungry she couldn’t even think straight.

She dug through the bin, but found nothing. Disappointed, she decided to head back to her dorm when something caught her eye.

It was one of the junior soldiers, washing the uniforms from the adult barracks. It had blood stains, and the junior was having some trouble removing it.

It wasn’t until she saw the speck of blood on one of the male soldier’s pants when it dawned upon her. She felt a cold sensation surge through her body when she realized what was happening to her. Frantically, she raced back to her bunk, and took out the little notebook hidden under the pillow.

“One…two…three…”

_How many days has it been?_

“…Twenty-two, Twenty-three, Twenty-four…”

_No, please. It can’t be…_

The bigger the number got, the more panicked she became.

“…Forty-two.”

It has been forty-two days since she had her last period.

_No…It can’t be…_

Despair and helplessness strangled her, making it hard to breathe.

_No… please…_

The notebook dropped from her hands, and she fell to her knees, shaking all over.

_Why? Why is this happening to me? What have I done wrong?_

It was like falling into a black hole with no arms ready to catch you.

She felt herself falling deeper and deeper, as she crouched down and sobbed her lungs out.

She was pregnant.


	4. Part Three

Part Three – Broken

{ Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,

but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,

for the heart to conquer it.

― Rabindranath Tagore}

 

-After nine months-

Sweat. It poured down her forehead like a leaking pipe, burning into her eyes. Her vision was already blurry a long time ago, was it minutes, hours? The girl was already exhausted; she was on the verge of giving up. Her wrists were curled up into fists, her fingernails digging into her skin. Her face was as pale as a sheet of white paper, the lines on her forehead deep.

_Push one two. Push one two. Push one two._

The sun was high in the sky, its rays shooting through the scarce clouds. She was protected from the scorching heat, in a little hut specially built for these occasions. The wooden hut was not comfortable; a mattress was all it had. They brought her here, but they would surely take her back.

The lady was kind. She was beside her all the time, encouraging her, helping her. She was patient and experienced, though not professional. She knew what to do, what to use to ease the pain. She understood. She urged. She cared.

Or maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just doing her job.

The tension broke when the cry was finally heard. It echoed around the room, as if announcing to the world its presence. Never would she have thought that the cry of a newborn baby would be such a wonderful sound.

_I… did it._

The midwife handled the infant gently, holding it beside Seven so she could take a look. It’s skin was still red, it’s eyes closed tight. Seven stared at it in wonder, that beautiful being over there… it was her child.

“He’s a boy. Would you like to hold him?”

Despite the fatigue and faint feeling, she couldn’t resist the urge. Her arms reached out in a reflex action, as the midwife placed the infant into her arms slowly.

_My son._

She watched the tiny child with adoration, capturing his features one by one. His head was misshapen, but the lady said it was alright. He had beautiful eyebrows, a little nose, his skin felt so soft she was almost afraid of hurting him. He sneezed, causing her to smile. It was worth it, she strongly believed. Hours of labor can never compare to something like this. He was hers, and hers only. For the first time in years, she felt happiness crawling into her from within, she suddenly felt a strong wave of protection and love for the son she had just conceived.

The midwife watched Seven hold her baby quietly. If Seven wasn’t preoccupied with him, she would have noticed the unusual expression on the lady’s face.

It was pity.

The elder woman knew all too well what would be next; she’d seen it happen to hundreds of other girls. To them, perhaps the only moment they could cherish was the few minutes given to them to hold their child, to feel his temperature against their skin, to breathe in the same air together as one.

Heavy footsteps were heard. They were here. The midwife opened the door to let them in, bowing her head in the process. There were two of them this time, both looking bored in their uniforms.

“We are here to collect the baby.”

With that sentence said, they finally caught Seven’s attention.

_They are going to taking him away._

“NO!” As both of them approached her, Seven tightened her arms around her son, her fearful eyes looking at them with disbelief. After going through all the pain, they were going to take him away from her?

Without a word, they brutally snatched the baby out of her arms. A hard kick to her stomach inflicted such pain on her she had to drag her body to reach the doorstep, where they were heading. In a desperate motion, she grabbed one of the soldier’s left leg, begged him with a pleading voice.

“Please… “

The gaze that met hers wasn’t the one she wanted to see. His eyes were hard and cold, it stared into her soul with such loathing and disgust she was frozen at the spot.

“Get out of our way.”

With those words thrown back at her, the soldier kicked up to her face while the other sniggered.

_No, they can’t take him away. I can’t let go. I can’t give up. He’s mine._

_He’s my son._

But she couldn’t even move from her spot as the backs of the soldiers moved further and further away. The midwife was at her side immediately, she could feel herself being pulled away.

_No! I can’t… I…_

The last thing she saw before blackness took over her vision was the golden ray of sunlight surging through the windows.

It was so bright and sunny, her eyes hurt.

So did her heart.

*****

She was drowning.

It was so dark. When she looked up, she couldn’t even see the surface of the water.

She kicked, struggled, tried to swim, but nothing worked. She was running out of air, her lungs were like on fire. She closed her eyes, feeling the water around her envelope her body. Soon she stopped trying to breathe, and the world turned silent.

She could only feel herself sinking deeper and deeper into the endless whirlpool, carrying its weight down with her.

*****

“You’re awake.”

The minute she opened her eyes, she regretted it. She was alive after all. Summoning all of her energy, she slowly sat up from the mattress and turned to the lady with an urging look.

Seven opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it.

She tried again, this time it was nothing but a croak.

“My… son…”

The midwife lowered her glance, and then moved over to sit beside Seven. Her hands touched Seven’s palms softly, with a sad shake of her head. “He’s gone.”

Those two words struck the girl like bolts of lightning. She remembered what happened, and how her baby was brutally snatched away from her, but in a small part of her heart, she hoped that it was all a bad dream.

Did they kidnap her the same way they took away her son? She couldn’t remember.

Although she had no memories of her parents, nor her relatives, she yearned to know who they were. She was angry at them for not being able to protect her, but more often than not, she thought about how it would be if she had grown up in a normal family. She missed them, but how could you miss someone you don’t even remember?

Those feelings became stronger as she looked into the sorrowful eyes of the elder woman. _She must feel sorry for me_ , she thought, and she must have felt sorry for every single girl who sat on the same mattress as she did right now.

Did her mother feel just as painful when she was separated from her?

With wobbling feet and an increasing nausea, Seven forced herself on her feet and stepped outside. The midwife rose to her feet with a cry, rushed over to Seven and tried to coax her to lie back down.

“They will be here soon to pick you up, so you should get some more rest when you can…” Was what Seven heard before she noticed something over the woman’s shoulder.

Sharp eyes were one of the useful qualities she had that made her one of the elites. Yet, it wasn’t just the uncanny sight that caught her attention; it was the smell of blood. Of rotten flesh.

The midwife was hiding something from her.

A cold glare and a push was enough to get the woman away from her, but she still tagged behind timidly, as if she was afraid of her. Seven ignored her reaction, her gut feeling was telling her that something was not right, that she should back away right now.

But she couldn’t.

With shaky footsteps, she managed to advance forward in a somewhat slow speed. It was warm and sunny as usual; even the trees have lost their colour and seemed to hang about lifelessly, wilting and turning black due to the heat. There weren’t many trees that could still survive in this weather, but a few did. The particular tree some distance away from the hut was barely surviving, its branches thin and without vigour. A dying tree.

The source.

The dying tree.

Seven stumbled forward clumsily, moving in a zombie-like stance. The midwife was not behind her anymore, she was merely looking at her from the outside of the hut, watching. The girl soldier continued walking, as if her only goal in life was to reach that tree.

One step.

One step. Two. Three. One…

She repeated the process over and over again, giving herself the encouragement to go on. As she managed to get near enough to really see what the source of her curiosity was, it was all she could manage to remain standing on her feet.

There was a dying tree.

Beneath the dying tree.

There was a vulture.

Beneath the vulture.

There was a body.

A body torn to pieces.

A body of a newborn baby.


	5. Part Four

**_Author’s Note: I am not familiar with the military or any sort of military training, so please pardon me for any mistakes in this chapter. I tried to give an explanation as to why would Kiritsugu be there to save Maiya from a battlefield instead of taking the lazy way out and leave it unexplained, but if this plot makes no sense to you, I apologize and hope you may leave a review to suggest how I may improve, thank you!_ **

Maiya’s Past

Part Four – Escape  

_“When you have lost hope, you have lost everything. And when you think all is lost, when all is dire and bleak, there is always hope.”_ _  
_ _―[Pittacus Lore](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3380908.Pittacus_Lore)_ _,_ [ _I Am Number Four_ ](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/10576999)

****

“Oy, kid! Get out of my way!”

A tall man with a grumpy face shoved the little boy soldier out of the way, as though he was in a hurry. The other child soldiers parted away from him, doing their best to stay out of the way as the man, though thin, had an incredible strength and could easily hurt them if he wanted to.

Most of them had only seen him recently, and no one knew where he came from. Some of them might be curious, but none of them asked any questions. It wasn’t that the man looked frightening; they were also already trained in nature to do what they were told and ask no questions. The man seemed like an important person though, since he had a whole tent to himself and was always treated nicely by the officers.

“Ragger!” The Head cooed, his face lightening up as he saw the other man walk in.

“How many?” Ragger asked scruffily, pulling up his sleeves to expose pale flesh.

“Six. I need you to heal them as fast as you can. Some of them are already on the verge of death.” The Head replied, directing Ragger to where the injured generals lay.

“I will do my best.” Ragger nodded, striding over to the injured men, most of them unconscious. He placed a hand on the chest of the first man, chanted some verses in an undetectable language, and closed his eyes.

Soon after, a pale green glow started to form on the palms of the mage. The injured man cringed, yet he felt no pain – there was just a mild tingling, a slight itch, and it was gone. The pain, the wound, the blood, everything.

“Amazing…” The injured man – now completely healed, looked at his chest in amazement. Was this the power of magic? He had never believed in such a thing, until he experienced it and seen it with his own eyes. It was truly a miracle. He was going to die. But he’s alive. He’s alive.

“Thank-” The man started, but Ragger had already moved on to the next patient. He was careful, but fast; gentle, but firm. In just a few minutes, he had already healed all of the previously injured soldiers in the tent – all that was left was to let them rest and recover for a few days.

The Head nodded in satisfaction. Ever since Ragger had joined their army, everything was going well. They no longer lost valuable men due to fatal injuries. They no longer had to worry about medical supplies. The kids could die and rot for all he cared.

“I will be heading back to my tent.” Ragger announced, after making sure that everything was in place. He gave The Head a look, then proceeded to leave right away.

“Hold on there, Ragger.” The Head frowned, displeasure forming on his face. “Won’t you care for some beer? Stay and enlighten me about this ‘magic’ of yours.”

Ragger shook his head. “No, thanks. Ain’t got any time for beer, I’ve got a Mage Killer on my trail.” He said, pushing open the flap of the tent and left without turning back.

The Head sighed. Pity Ragger was a man of few words, and with such horrible manners. He would have loved to learn more about this healing magic, and whether it was possible to learn it himself.

Taking a look at the now sleeping patients, The Head started to worry. It was agreed upon that they would provide cover and shelter for the lone mage as long as he healed their generals and soldiers, but for how long? To his knowledge, Ragger claimed that there was an assassin after him, and that he needed a place to hide for some time. He found the military most appropriate, as it would be really difficult to track him down here, and besides, who would take refuge in a place as dangerous as a battlefield?

Of course, he had not believed the mage until he actually provided proof of his ability. The Head’s eyes turned big at the wound that was painfully throbbing his arm a minute ago, now completely healed. Ragger would mean the difference in their operations. All they had to do was to ensure they survived every single battle, and get more kids once they start to die off.

Kidnaping and training kids were easy – replacing men was difficult. That is why Ragger meant so much to them. Although they had not won any of their recent moves, they had not lost any valuable men. It didn’t matter that half of the kid soldiers died – they could always get more.

Ragger said he had to stay low for a while. What could he do to make Ragger stay low forever?

The Head’s eyes gleamed bright in the darkness of the tent. He needed a plan to keep Ragger here. But how?  What could he promise Ragger in return of his services? They had nothing. They owned nothing. What else could they offer…?

The Head fell into deep thought, but just as he was about to leave the tent…

“ _Enemy aircraft spotted up ahead!! Enemy aircraft spotted up ahead!!!_ ”

“What’s happening?!” The Head rushed out in a panic, only to see his soldiers panicking. He grabbed one by his collar, ready to punch him in the face if he did not explain, but at that moment a sudden crash explained everything.

As everybody crouched down and braced themselves for the crash, the tents around them went up in flames. People started screaming – regardless of whether they were mere soldiers or ranked, fear made them forget discipline. Child and adult soldiers alike started running away, but as they ran, the aircrafts gave no mercy. The bombs started showering upon them like rainfall, and it didn’t even take a minute to bring the camp into complete chaos.

“ _Ragger! Where are you?!_ ” The Head bellowed, rushing over to the tent where Ragger resided. “Ragger! _Are you in there?!_ ” He struggled amongst a sea of bodies to reach the tent, hoping that the mage was somewhere around that area. “Ragger!” _Maybe if I find him and escape with him, I won’t have to worry about any injuries… I might even escape from this alive!_

With utmost effort, The Head crawled his way through, cursing and praying for his life at the same time. Yet when he was almost there, a bright flash of light lit his path, and all of a sudden, there was fire in front of his eyes, and everything was quiet. The tent was burning, as were his clothes, his hair, his ears, and his skin. He screamed in pain, his hands clawing his face as he tried to put out the fire in his hair. _Ragger, I need Ragger to heal me…._

In the midst of the crawling and clawing, The Head could finally make out the figure of the man he was looking for. He started to yell – yet another wave came and he saw the mage fall in front of his eyes. And even as he was burning up, even as he was on the brink of death, The Head began to laugh.

In the end, the healer could not even heal himself. In the end, all men, mage or not, lost to the ultimate power of destruction.

*****

Seven woke up to the sound of bombs.

 She glanced around hurriedly, and soon realized that the midwife was gone. Whether she ran away or she went back to the main camp for some reason, Seven wasn’t sure. The one thing she was sure of was that she had to run.

Or else she would die.

Seven jumped off the bed and headed to the entrance of the small hut. They were located in some distance away from the main camp, but the smoke and debris had already spread over to her area. She coughed, covering the bottom part of her face with her hands and ran out.

Once outside, everything looked different. The smoke was so thick she could barely see, and the noises made her ears ring. She tried not to breathe too fast, but it was impossible considering that her heart was beating a hundred times a minute. Where was she supposed to go? Where was safe? Where _could_ she go? She looked around frantically, trying to decide where to run.

As if answering her question, a deafening rumble shook the ground, and the hut came falling apart. Seven scarcely had any time to react, she tried to jump away but the impact threw her off her feet, burying her under the remains of the stone hut. Seven cried out, filling up her lungs with smoke which made her cough painfully. She could’ve kicked herself if she wasn’t already suffering with agony – the moment she hit the ground all of her breath was knocked out of her, it wasn’t like she had a choice. The lack of oxygen was already causing her to choke in frustration, and her eyes were smarting from all the smoke. She flailed wildly, trying to free herself from the rubble which pinned her down, but she couldn’t. It was too heavy and she was too weak. _She was too weak_.

 _Help me…_ She willed desperately, reaching out her hands to cling onto _something_ , but of course, there was nothing to hold on to. It was similar to her in a way. Her newborn son was dead, her family forgotten, and her identity lost. There was nothing for her to hold on to anymore. She could just die. She should just give up. She should just die.

Seven closed her eyes, all the fire gone out of her. Just as she was about to give herself up to fate, something grabbed her palm.

It was so shocking it sent Seven’s heart beating wildly again. She opened her eyes as large as she could but her vision was already getting hazy. Something… no. Some _one_ was holding her hand, clutching it, as if he was urging her not to give up. As if he was urging her to live.

How absurd. She must be dreaming. Why would anyone want her to live? She was only a child soldier, nobody cared whether she lived or died. She was just there to die for the army.

Yet she saw the man let go of her hand to push away the weight which was crushing her bones. She saw him grit his teeth as he pushed with all of his strength – until the weight fell away and only dust was on top of her. She saw him take her hand again, and lift her up with both of his strong arms, and then they were running.

Seven hated the dark. Ironically enough, the stranger who saved her was a dark-haired teenager with a black coat.

 _Maybe I wasn’t dreaming after all_ , was what Seven thought before she fell unconscious.

 


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue –A New Beginning 

_“They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.”_

_― Tom Bodett_

 

She was in her mother’s arms.

It was so soft, so gentle; it held her close like it was afraid to lose her again.

_Why did you let me go, Mommy?_

She grasped those arms tightly, snuggling against her mother’s body.

A mother’s warmth, that was what she yearned for. Her lips curled up into a satisfied smile – everything else was forgotten. She smiled happily, blissfully. She hadn’t worked those muscles in such a long time, she was afraid they wouldn’t work for her anymore. For a long while, she was content in just hugging her mother and listening to her calm breathing. Everything was serene. And for the first time in a long time, she was happy.

_Mommy, let’s be together forever._ She mumbled, burying her face into her mother’s nape.

It was then her body froze, her iron-made instincts screamed at her to get away. She jerked away, suddenly noticing that her mother’s skin had turned ice-cold.

_Mommy…?_ She asked uncertainly, staring into her mother’s eyes. In a second, those laughing brown eyes turned into deep pools of black holes, and her mother began to transform into something twisted.

She screamed, kicking as she backed away further and further from the monster which was transforming in front of her. Her mother’s limbs broke apart one by one, until no more than a stub was left; and her hair started falling down like leaves during autumn. Her skin changed into angry pink, and her face morphed and morphed until it looked like something strikingly familiar –

_Mother…_

“No… Get away, get away from me!!”She wanted to get on her feet and run, but somehow they turned into dead weight. She could only drag herself away from the figure who was calling her, her eyes already wet with tears.

_Mother…. Why are you running away…?_

“No… please…” Knowing there was no way out, she covered her face with her hands, her hands full of blood. And suddenly everything turned red, everything was painful, and everything was a nightmare.

_She_ was the mother now. _She_ was the one who turned her child away. _She_ was the one who ran away from her son.

She had yearned for a mother’s warmth, yet she had never given it to her own son. She was hurt at her mother for letting them take her away, but that was the very thing she let happen to him. She had once blamed her mother for not protecting her, but she could not even protect her own son.  _It was not fair_ , she cried, she never had a chance, she never had a chance, she wanted to, but _she just never had a chance_. 

The figure continued haunting her, taunting her, driving her to the corner of the corner where there was nowhere else to back away and screamed, and wept and accused her of everything she had ever accused her mother of.

And she sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed.

 

*****

 

When she woke up, the first thing she realised was that she was lying on something soft.

It took her awhile to realise that she was lying on a bed. She had almost forgotten how it felt like, and it was so comfortable she could forget about the pain for a moment.

It was dark, save for the moonlight shinning in from the windows of the room she was in. She couldn’t move, so she tried to make sense of her surroundings using what she could see in her line of vision.

“You’re awake,” said the dark-haired teenager who was sitting on a chair near her bed.

Seven opened her mouth and tried to talk, but her throat was so dry she ended up coughing instead.

“Here.” Water was placed near her lips, and she managed several small sips. The young man then removed the glass and put it on the table again.

“Where–” She started, but the man in black shook his head and told her not to speak.

“You are safe now.” He said simply, giving her what she supposed, was a smile. It seemed like he was feeling rather uncomfortable, or more appropriately, awkward. It seemed like he didn’t know what to say or what to explain for his actions.

She couldn’t understand it either. She was more confused than happy at her survival. Why was it her who survived? Why _did_ she survive, after she had decided to give up? Why was he there? Why did he save her?

All those questions remain unanswered, he did not give her any answers, and she did not ask.

After a few days of resting, she soon found out that the young man’s name was ‘Emiya Kiritsugu’. Despite having no relationship to her and having no reason to save her, he visited her every day at the hospital, and when she was discharged, took her in. He gave her a place to stay, food to eat, and a name. Since she couldn’t remember anything from her past, he gave her an identity. The child soldier called ‘Seven’ was no more.

Even though she knew nothing about the black stranger, she decided to follow him wherever he went. She had nowhere else, no one else to go to.

From the moment he saved her, her life was his.   

And that was when she became Hisau Maiya. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This is the last part of my very first fanfic, I really hope you like it and I would really appreciate it if you could leave a comment below, whether it is constructive criticism or just your feelings on my work. :)


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